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High heels on, Lipstick bright red. Taking whiskey shots, All senses dead. Kissing in the bar, Hormones flying about. Drunk off my face, Without a party doubt.
Time to be a teenager, To do what we do best, To drown ourselves in alcohol, Ensuring we're unstressed...
If I was a cocktail I would be the woo woo So here's a short tale Are you listening ... Yeah you who.
So me and three friends go camping. We drink lots, talk loads, laugh uncontrollably. S'mores by the camp fire followed by a joint to mellow out as the evening draws.
A carnival filled with mischief. Jesters juggling wine bottles. Necklaces, liquor, bras. All of New Orleans celebrating. Mardi Gras. Spitting fire. Dancing on electrical wires. Higher and higher.
Drink, glorious drink; Means I do not think; What no inhibitions. No need to make decisions. Bipolar drunk, that's me; Happy as can be. Then sad for just a second, Then happy, so it's reckoned.
~A story told in the perspective of a night owl set on the perfect party~ List Of Requirments: 1. Booze 2. Music That's basiclly all you need for an amazing, rock-my-world night.
Stand back when the music does begin. Or you'll feel the force of 'Crazy Legs Lynn'. After a few Port and Lemons with lots of ice. My god, take care, those legs take flight.
Sitting in your bedroom Just staring at the clock Waiting for the phone call Telling you it's time to rock Silver dress hangs ready As you pop another pill You know it's pretty early But you get off...
The DJ is awesome. The tunes are so loud. You're so glad to be here. Part of the crowd. Pill heads and piss heads. Raving along. Funky house music. The beat is the song. Playing these tunes.
Freedom is saying,"Lets go out!" Lets move and shake our bodies about, I'm hungry for freedom, Can someone call DJ Tom.
I'm dressed up to the nines. Ready for a great night. Peep toe sandals. A floaty dress in white. I had a Martini. With lots of ice. It gives me that feeling. All warm, fuzzy...nice. I listen to tunes.
After staying out all night He looked a bit of a sight His beard was growing Underwear showing And his eyes weren't all that bright See, he'd been to a place Proceeded to get off his face And now it...
I hate the morning after, When you feel as sick as hell, To be fair it's all my fault, Why I did it I can't tell, Because it's all about the fun, Until that next morning, When I lie in a heap on the...
Waking up in my car, I didn't get that far. Sprawled in the back, Confused, by the memory I lack. What happened last night. In the mirror a terrible sight.
There was a keepy uppy tournament at our hostel in Buenos Aires, a bit of a party hostel tbf.